


at the end of the world (i'll tell you the truth).

by nwhrs



Series: all around the year. [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (it gets better jdsjsbd), .......in the most estranged way possible, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Character, Basically everyone is a vampire, Christmas, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Arophobia, M/M, Mentioned NCT Ensemble, Sorry if it shows, i have no idea how this comes to happen, the end is hopefully happy though sjdnajd, this - too - shall pass but it's here yes sjdbjad, you know the fluff is sandwiched between two layers of somewhat angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nwhrs/pseuds/nwhrs
Summary: "This time is the last time."In which Ten and Johnny have been immortal lovers for centuries. The catch: They haven't seen each other in decades. Now, as yet another Christmas day comes around, things might change forever.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: all around the year. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064252
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	at the end of the world (i'll tell you the truth).

**Author's Note:**

> I SWEAR I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS TURNED OUT LIKE THIS SJDJHBSDJHBSHDB It started out with ^ exact this premise, but my brain went haywire and here we are. ajndjsabdadjnd
> 
> I talked with [Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonsun) about vampires!OT23 after the _Arrival_ concept photos came out ... and I wanted to write a holiday / Christmas fic ... so ... this got combined LOL But since I couldn't fit 23 character into a single fic, written and planned in less than a month, let me retreat to my comfort ship for now and build up the rest one by one?? Maybe??  
> Thanks to Rose for beta-ing this, too, and for cleaning out some plotholes and weird word choices when Suddenly I Can't English sjdnsjhdb I really appreciate you uwu !! <3
> 
> Title is vaguely inspired by a mixture of ONEWE's [Parting](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SN7NLdiwcnk) and [A Book in Memory](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdaNbo8lm58). Check out the songs!!! They're great and actually lowkey fit Ten (Parting) / Johnny (A Book in Memory) in this fanfic, tbh ...?
> 
>  **A note on vampires:** I took some creative freedom on how to interpret vampires! Relevant things are mentioned thorough the fic, but I failed to note that they won't turn to ashes in sunlight, but they're pretty sensitive to it, so they rather avoid it. They also co-exist with humanity lol  
> That's it for now! Enjoy ...? Hopefully sjdnjbsd

Some love stories never start, or take a couple of centuries to take place. Some love stories never happen, or freeze on their way. 

Sometimes, love turns cold, and sometimes, love takes the long way around until it comes home. 

(Sometimes, love isn't love, but remains to be love regardless.) 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


Ten is a vampire. 

This sounds far more dramatic than it actually is - at least in his case. Immortality was a tremendous concept when he got turned, but ever since, he adapted well-enough for a far too reckless, eccentric and unusual artist. Not everyone is happy with the glass dome on top of his house on a (clihé) hill - not when it allows for both sun-kissed moments and moonlit nights to be -, but it isn't like he _cares_. 

(Which is a lie - he does care, subtly asking for attention and a daily visit by at least one of their expanding group of vaguely like-minded vampires. Which, in turn, is the sole reason why he installed a coverage system during the day, though begrudgingly. Sadly enough, even he can understand that nobody likes a sunburn.) 

Now, he has a considerable pool of money to spend after years of hard work and (perhaps not _all_ of that made honestly; he isn't Taeil, after all). Eternity just goes on like this, and even after centuries, there is still a lot to discover, so he always moves on and around the world with a sketchbook in tow, observing life as it sleeps while he's awake. 

(But it would be a lie if he were to say that life was perfect as it is right now; strange holes have been appearing all over his heart in this indescribable manner of becoming, slowly, steadily, numb. A decay to be expected, a decay he isn't so sure whether he can fight - or wants to.) 

He lives alone, for all it matters, even though he refuses to be lonely. The house has been built centuries ago, for the very purpose of being a _home_ for such a troubled mind as his. Exactly, perfectly designed. 

(The bed is too large for one.) 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


_"Oh - goodness, we need to calm down, this … calm-"_

_"I am kindly reminding you that I am not the one making a fuss, Johnny," Ten said with a suppressed laugh, scurrying closer to the taller._

_He laid a hand onto the other's. Both were shaking, but the touch was reassuring. Colder than they were used to, but familiar - soothing, nonetheless._

_"You were screaming bloody murder just a moment ago," Johnny retorted with a sniff - was … was he crying now?_

_Ten sighed, but the sound was soaking with the silent affection he held for his best friend. He reached for the first drop to fall, rubbing it away in gentle circles._

_"Yeah, but seeing you being out of your mind calmed me down," the shorter one hummed in strange delight over the other's deadpan expression. He lifted his other hand to cup Johnny's face entirely now, forcing red eyes to meet red ones._

_What a beautiful color, Ten thought._

_"But now, I think I will - we will be fine. I got you, you got me, right? We will stick through eternity, somehow," he declared with confidence, leaning in. Their foreheads touched softly, and soon, their noses were rubbing gently against another._

_They closed their eyes, and then, it was just them._

_"Yes. Alright. We are going to be just fine," Johnny murmured, hands pulling Ten into a slightly colder but still warm hug. He smiled, and so did Ten._

_"Guess you will not get rid of me that easily now. It is us for eternity."_

  
  


\----- 

  
  


Ten stares out of the window, like he usually does when he thinks. Much to his dismay, the sea close to the house is silent tonight, and no raindrop is falling. He could have used some dramatic storm waves as his background on this peculiar day in December, but the calm view must do. 

He is aware that all three coven leaders (Taeyong _and_ Kun _and_ Mark) invited him to _every single one_ of their little group celebrations _and_ to the big one of the entire group, but minus the last one out of obligation, he has politely declined all of them. 

It's no use after all - he knows they mean well, always would, but he is in no damn jolly-good mood, and he hasn't been in years. It's a shame, really, because he liked the way people looked at him when he smiled, though even that doesn't matter now. He doesn't want to drag anyone's mood - as much as they try to lift his. 

It's no use, given the way Ten _is_. 

"Doyoung, if you glare at me from that corner one more time, I'll have to _nicely_ ask you to leave," the vampire groans as he feels a fierce pair of eyes on his. 

He doesn't need to turn around to notice the red - slightly blue-ish, almost violet - eyes, brightly so. Doyoung doesn't exactly try to be subtle, either. 

He groans in return. "Everyone just wants to verify that yes, you do not intend to attend any pre-party, and we shall leave you for blood's sake alone to create your own version of _The Grinch_ and _A Christmas Story_ ," he laments his fate to Ten's unmoving back. 

"First of all, both of them are begrudged, disappointed and bitterly frustrated, which I am _not_ -" (Doyoung scoffs.) " _-second_ , yes, I am absolutely sure. You'll have more fun without me," Ten states with some last determination. 

He still doesn't turn around, doesn't catch the sliver of disappointment in Doyoung's eyes. 

"As you say," the vampire finally says. "I should let you know that you're still welcome to come by, spontaneously." 

"Have a nice journey back," Ten simply remarks. And after a quiet _pow_ , he is all alone again. 

_Not lonely_ , he reminds himself. _Just alone._

  
  


\----- 

  
  


_"Why is your face glittering so much?" Johnny asked with this blissful, ignorant honesty that Ten had a sudden urge to strangle that questionable look out of him._

_It didn't help the shine in his face, of minuscule sweaty pearl drops. One advantage of being undead was certainly that he didn't 'blush' anymore._

_No, he 'sparkled' instead._

_Improvement? Very debatable._

_He averted his face. "It is nothing," Ten lied, and it's horrible how he could sense the pout on Johnny's face. How was he supposed to face that?!_

_"Teeeeeeeeen, there is something that bothers you, and this means it bothers me, too," Johnny lamented. He reached out for the other's hands, enveloping them in his just fine._

_Ten felt the sparkles increasing. It was horrifying and detestable._

_But he had known, from the first word, that this was a losing battle. He sighed, and finally turned to face those eyes he could never get tired of._

_A deep, fiery red that held the warmth of orange hues, and just the strangest shimmer of gold._

_(Ten wondered if Johnny knew how beautiful he was, and if he said it often enough to him.)_

_The shorter took a breath, or two._

_"Have you ever heard of the bond?"_

  
  


\----- 

  
  


Everyone is not surprised _per se_ when they hear of it - that the lonesome (he begs to differ), elusive resident of that cozy little house on a hill, that this odd yet friendly and (questionably) young man actually has a lover. Perhaps _surprising_ in the sense of wondering how someone keeps up with someone 'like him', but not surprising by the little signs he shows. The small ring, decorated with two initials - parading a _10_ on the inside, and a _J_ on the outside, the - very few, very small - mentions here and there. It isn't like Ten tries to hide it whenever people ask, either - yes, he is currently in a relationship, yes, he will send his beloved greetings, _yes_ , he is not interested in infidelity plots. 

But fact stands that no one has seen the assumed boyfriend - lover - life partner, ever. Not in this decade, not in the last four, or six. (Ten can positively say that this aspect of his life now belongs to one of the town's very own mysteries.) 

Here is another fact: Ten hasn't, either. 

It's been a good fifty-something years since he has last seen his lover-slash-bond mate-slash-best friend, which is about the time both of them can manage without each other. Vampires, he thinks, surely work in a funny way. In order to survive, they have to feed on blood, which is about the only thing that actually satiates their hunger. But at the same time, that blood can drive them to a point of insanity - an insatiable thirst for that red life essence. 

Another fun fact: They can make a so-called 'bond' with another vampire which will limit their feeding source to this specific vampire, and simultaneously still their thirst for a couple of decades, unless they really overexercise themself. It's essentially an exchange of blood, mostly seen as mean to make things easier for the desired co-existence with humanity, but it is equally considered a lovely confession of trust and respect. At the same time, it's unbreakable - nearly impossible, with only a faint probability of success. He personally hasn't looked into multiple bonds between multiple vampires, though he is sure Jaemin would love nothing more than to explain it to him. 

All _he_ needs to know is that every fifty-something years, Johnny and he need to meet up for a feeding. Which is about the only time in long they see each other, sharing a few words and stories, but those meetings never last long. 

Ten refuses to say they're on bad terms; calling them 'lovers' and 'best friends' is admittingly a stretch as of now, but not factually untrue. They never agreed to break up _per se_ , neither of them mentioned it, and Ten has yet to encounter someone who stirs the same feeling of comfort and security in him that Johnny evokes. 

Or, at least, what he remembers of it. 

Ten sighs, habitually, and detaches himself from the window. 

A last fun fact about vampires: Sometimes, you lose something when you turn. It's not fair that some go through it, and some don't, but be as it may. 

Ten is long over throwing tantrums. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


_"What … what do you mean by that?" Johnny asked, bewildered. "I thought we went through it and we are not-?"_

_"Well, turns out I am, Johnny," Ten snapped, a weary look in his eyes (maybe his last one). "It is as I said - I think … I … I am losing 'feeling'."_

_The taller stared for a while, and Ten was stubborn enough to stare with the same intensity. But it slipped, something, everything, alongside of it and everything shattered in just a second._

_Just a fraction, the smallest, of eternity._

_They went a long way, but perhaps, this was it._

_All nice things came to an end._

_"It is just fine if you cannot live with me anymore," Ten whispered softly, coming closer. There was a gentle smile on his face (perhaps the last one). He smiled, if only to ease the pain that got smaller with every little breath exhaled._

_A tentative touch of the taller's cheek, rubbing away the tear - like he had done all those years ago._

_"Do you love me?" Johnny asked, whispered, mouthed - faintly above the audible._

_Ten festered his smile, and leant in for a featherlight kiss, standing slightly on his tiptoes._

_"I love you," he said, a little louder, but not loud enough for the words to leave the close proximity of the lovers. He inhaled, exhaled. "But I do not know about tomorrow."_

  
  


\----- 

  
  


Ten walks the small corridors of his house - no grand hallways because that didn’t suit either of them back then, and doesn't now, too. At least for Ten's part, as dramatic as he is. But for his home, he wanted a small hideout, a cozy place to _belong_ , and that's what the small nooks and crannies are here for. And he looks at everything, at the small details that belong to either of the creators of this house - either to him, or to Johnny. 

Even though it's been centuries, he hasn't been able - hasn't _wanted_ to remove most of Johnny's fingerprints after he left. His french press is still in quite a good shape and in use, regularly being replaced when the vampire manages to break it (again). There are still photographs hanging here and there, the ones that the other somewhat managed to take or acquire. Multiple in which there is a faint shadow of _someone_ , the someone being _Ten_ , but many will think of it as nice landscapes. (It's hard to capture a vampire on photographs - not impossible, but certainly … difficult.) 

There is a painting of Ten that Johnny commissioned some centuries ago (he really can't paint for good). 

There is a painting of Johnny that Ten made soon after his own being finished by someone else's hand - this one being painted with his own hands instead, and it might be the only reason why he hasn't forgotten how Johnny looks like until now. 

Memories are a funny thing, but they spring right back into place when he looks at the gentle, slightly dopey smile that he has engraved onto the large canvas for eternity. 

"Here we are now," Ten whispers to no one in particular. 

He isn't _mad_ at Johnny per se. It would imply that he still possesses the emotions of wrath or something similar, but luckily, it's one of the first emotions his mind got rid of. And all in all, given whatever emotional circumstances, he can understand Johnny - there is logic in his departure, and he should know because he _knows_ him like nobody else does. 

Johnny thrives on spreading and spending love and emotions on others. But as much as he thrives in giving relentlessly, to _pour_ his own soul into someone and something, if there is nothing coming back, he will emotionally starve himself to death. His beauty - the one of his heart - will falter and rot away until eventually, he, too, will lose his warmth entirely. 

It's only logical that one of them has to leave for good. Johnny, like the type of person he is, has been kind enough to make the decision first - before Ten could trap himself in regret. 

But it wouldn't have mattered, in the end. 

He doesn't know if he can still feel regret. It feels hard to do so. 

He looks at the calendar. In meticulous circles, Christmas day is marked. He doesn't care so much for the festivities itself, but it's the day Johnny has announced himself this year - with a 'jolly' postcard, as he has declared himself. 

Ten stares at the card in his hand. 

This recurring piece of paper feels different, this year, but perhaps, it's not. It's always different, a different picture and different words scribbled on the backside, there shouldn't be any _more_ variation than that. And yet … 

The layer of something impending lingers thinly in the air as he steps away from the paintings of his lover and himself. 

_This time is the last time_ , Ten promises, to no one in particular. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


_"It is not your fault, Johnny."_

_Gentle eyes circled Ten as he spoke those words. He smiled, like he did so many times before._

_"It is not yours, either," Johnny said softly._

_They did not speak much, as the rising moon was obscured by the clouds, silently covering tears that might dwell up in the aftermath. Both of them smiled, basked in each other's sight - for the last time in perhaps long._

_Ten stepped forward, tiptoeing as he pressed firm palms onto Johnny's shoulders, forcing him to lean down. He kissed the taller's forehead, a tentative touch, only once._

_"See you next time," Ten said._

_Johnny, too, leaned down to kiss Ten's forehead, and for a last time in long, the shorter felt the overflowing surge of affection that his lover still held for him - at least for now. They didn't promise each other eternity because eternity was too flimsy a thing for promises._

_Ten didn't expect it, either._

_"See you, then," Johnny said._

_Then, he was gone._

  
  


\----- 

  
  


The clock strikes around three in the morning - a horrendous hour according to some part of humanity, for it is a strange time. It doesn't quite feel like it's early enough to stand up, but it isn't a truly inspiring time to go to bed, either. Instead, it's caught in-between the both states, between slumber and waking. 

To Ten, three in the morning is just another hour of his night. Usually rather uneventful, but not _that_ much of an enigma. More than anything, he spends the night staring outside of his windows, changing his position every once in a while, as he waits for inspiration to surge into him. It doesn't always come, but he's patient enough, has always been. 

Though this time around, it seems to be a bit different. 

Somewhere, in the house, the ridiculously large clock (credits to Ten's earlier shopping sprees), similar to a church's bell, rings three times. It resonates in the entire house, but even before the last tune fades into the night for nevermore, something changes in the room. 

There is this undeniable quality of a darker black from which something new - someone old, familiar emerges. 

Ten sighs - chuckles. "And I was already wondering when you'd come by," he lets out, turning to face the face he hasn't seen in so long. 

Memories flood him, though there is only so much significance when he, once again, looks into those red eyes, glowing in the little light that the moon offers. There is a smile on his lover's face, gentle as it has always been. 

Some things just never change. 

"Hey there," Johnny exhales with a soft breath, stepping closer to the shorter vampire. 

"Hey," Ten replies with a curt nod, allowing the other to close the gap between them rather than the other way around. _It's the last time_ , he thinks to himself with a silent hum, a requiem to the years as they pass by. "Well, then, let's-" he opens without further ado as soon as Johnny is in remarkable proximity, clasping his hands. 

They have time to waste, but the quicker it's over, the earlier he can go back to his mindless window-gazing, and Johnny can go back to whatever jolly business he had before necessities- 

Only that Johnny doesn't seem to have the same plan. He clears his throat, pointedly, and it's only then that Ten notices Johnny hasn't come _alone_. Instead, there is a whole lot of … _stuff_ , for lack of better description, laying patiently in the same corner the taller has emerged from. 

Ten stares at the … abundance of items now littering the room. Boxes. And … there is something awfully similarly shaped to a tree. … A … tree. … Alright. 

See, when there is only so much light, merely provided by the shining moon, glittering things have a tendency to catch the eye so much easier - and Johnny's face is positively _glowing_ , somehow managing to render Ten speechless, even as there are so many questions left to ask. It's brave that the other still manages to gather some courage to speak up, despite the obvious embarrassment that is currently going through his entire body. 

"Let's - let's celebrate Christmas," he says firmly, a bit of the glow going away once the secret is revealed. "I know you don't do that anymore, or we never _actually_ celebrated it, but … just this once, please?" 

_The audacity to use puppy eyes on me_ , Ten snorts in his mind, though he merely raises an eyebrow on the surface. He crosses his arms. "You know I'm not going to enjoy it, don't waste your time with that effort," he sighs. "Let's just get over with the feeding and go our separate ways again-" 

"-but I want to," Johnny intercepts, the plea evident in his eyes, in the way he comes just the tiniest bit closer - in the way his fingers curl vaguely, trying to reach out for something so close yet so far. Small signs that there is determination, yes, but at the same time, it's flimsy hope - so easy to crush, and Ten knows he has the choice. And in the very same moment, both can recognise that it is - seems to be - hard. 

Hard to fall back to easy patterns when there is just so much in-between that make the gap impossibly large. 

Yet, even now, Ten doesn't find a particularly good reason to refuse this request - it's easy to do, certainly, but it's not like he actually has anything _else_ to do. And, it's the last time - perhaps Johnny feels it, too, and this is just his way of saying a final good-bye. (It would be like him, to want to create one single-last, pure and joyous memory - just to end it afterwards. Ten doesn't know if that is mercy, or simple cruelty.) 

"... Okay," he gives in. "Only this time." 

And the smile that follows after resembles the serene one, the one that is forever fixated on the painting just a few rooms further. 

(At least that will remain the same, even when he's gone.) 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


There is an incredulous look on Ten's face as he stares at the black sock, far too large for his own usage, and extremely unfit considering its shape and form - beside the fact that there is only one, to begin with. 

"When you said you wanted to celebrate, I thought you meant, like, eating out nicely, that sort of thing, but … what is _that_?" he demands to know, nose scrunched up in a mock attempt of dignity - to cover up the sincere curiosity. He knows of _some_ christmas traditions, but he generally doesn't _really_ keep up with them, anyway. 

Johnny can't help the grin in face of the cluelessness. "You never saw it? Christmas stockings?" he asks with surprise in his face. 

"I did not, and I'm very glad," the other vampire says prickly, holding the black _something_ between two fingers, as if it's contagious. It doesn't stop him from looking at it, though. 

They are currently seated in the living room, warm darkness surrounding them, still, with only two small candle lights flickering in some corners. Johnny is currently placing more and more pieces of festively patterned fabric on the ground, added with some glittering stars and other decorations that catch the vampire's eyes. 

It doesn't explain anything to Ten, though, the reasoning of all of this hidden in the mysterious nebula of decades-old secrets he hasn't ever heard of. 

"Well, you see, sometimes - mainly in Western celebrations, I think? - people put up a Christmas stocking that then gets filled with little presents and candy, so I thought we could … decorate our own now, for starters," the taller eventually explains, carefully placing a blue sock in front of himself. Eyes flit back to the other. "You … you don't like it?" he asks, taking in the disdainful face of Ten. 

Johnny looks defeated, and it certainly isn't a good look on him - and it also isn't one Ten is particularly _familiar_ with, not anymore. He sighs. "It's … fine, I guess. You did prepare, and I did say yes, so-" he mutters. 

His words get lost somewhere in the soft smile that Johnny gives him, ephemerally illuminated by the dim candle lights. It's _irritating_ , if not infuriating, and Ten stares at the black sock instead. 

"I'm glad," Johnny's quiet words still echo to him and he just shrugs in reply. 

"You remembered my favorite color," Ten says instead, eyeing the assembly of decorations now - some of them must be years old, or he just can't explain how some _entirely_ outdated patterns come to exist in this collection. They are _so_ last century! 

Johnny smiles softly, watching Ten as he picks up the first star-shaped pendant. "How could I forget?" he says, voice dripping of a warmth Ten hasn't heard in years (and it stings, only a little bit). 

The shorter picks up a needle and some golden-shimmering yarn, frowning as he notices how Johnny still looks at him, unmoving from before - with no apparent intention to begin _his_ work. "Stop staring," he points out with a scoff, and it only makes the taller laugh. 

"Sorry, couldn't help it - it's … nice to see you again, after all those years," Johnny remarks, though it merely explains anything. But finally, he, too, picks up a pair of scissors and some fabric, seemingly determined to patch some of the - in Ten's humble opinion - weirdest shapes he has ever seen onto his sock. 

… Well, to each their own? 

Ten really doesn't get the meaning of all of this, and he doesn't want to try. (Or admit that _maybe_ , it's some sort of _fun_ to hang out with each other like this - after all those years. Even though he cannot match _everything_ about Johnny with his own memories, there is comfort in knowing that perhaps, some things don't change.) 

(But he knows it can't stay like this.) 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


"So … now, what?" Ten asks once they finish patching up the last things for their socks, both of them cleaning up the mess they made. (But in his defense, it is _Johnny_ who started to throw loose buttons at first - who would've guessed that there was a war following after that, with one of them almost swallowing one of the colorfuls small plates. Squares and rectangles of fabric with strange holes have been used as shield, with questionable efficiency, and everything has been a … _mess_ , simple as it is.) 

Johnny hums in consideration. "You know, usually, people give each other presents and all, but I doubt we'll find something on short notice, so … how about we still play Santa, but just fill each other's socks with something nice?" he suggests (as if he _hasn't_ have it all planned out; Ten glimpsed at his notes earlier). 

The shorter squints at him. Truthfully, he isn't as convinced, holding the black sock he oh-so disliked at first close to his chest. It's a fascinating patch of various golden stars, a few other silver or golden decorations and an elegantly stitched _10_ across the hem. "Can I trust you with my creation, though?" he questions. 

The taller _pouts_ , of all things, looking visibly hurt - well, theatrically so. "Come on, I even prepared something for you! Here, I give you mine as well-" he offers as a peace treaty - the blue sock he's been working on, while Ten watched in a mixture of horror and amusement. 

It's not _bad_ per se - just … one step short of absolutely disastrous, the harmony at thin threads. A patch of variously styled letters read _J.SUH_ , with a rainbow-colored heart representing the dot. (Something in Ten would like to think he's only doing such a poor job to get a laugh out of Ten, to amuse him, but he has never quite trusted his inner voice; it's useless, anyway.) 

Ten stares at the sock, then at him, pointedly. 

"Pretty please?" Johnny tries anew, and Ten groans, sighing heavily - _not again the puppy eyes!_ Does this vampire know no shame? 

(Well, yeah, no. He knows this much about the taller.) 

Ten glares at him, though he can't quite hide the slight rise of his lips, in defeat yet … anticipation? Even as it feels more like the memory of what it feels like, to receive gifts, give them in turn. 

But once more, he gives in, handing over the black elegance of his own individualised sock, taking the blue one instead. It feels strangely warm in his hands. "Fine. But only this time," Ten remarks sharply, though the edge is entirely lost on Johnny who smiles happily - for _what_ , the shorter constantly wonders. 

"You'll like it, don't worry!" Johnny only remarks - before he's already dashing out of the living room, probably to prepare whatever he has already prepared. He leaves Ten in confused irritation, and the shorter heaves another sigh. 

Well, he might as well get going, then. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


The question that presents itself naturally: What is _he_ even supposed to gift Johnny? 

It is pretty obvious that the taller has arrived with a plan in tow, but clearly failed to allow Ten _any_ time for preparation at all. … Which is arguably very understandable - if he had known of it earlier, he would have definitely protested and rejected the entire idea. Just appearing out of nowhere and surprising him seems to be quite frankly the more successful course of action - but it still leaves Ten clueless. There are only so many things he can think of which are worthwhile to gift away _and_ in his immediate possession, too. 

Strolling through the house, blue sock dangling from one of his hands, he tries to remember what Johnny could like - he should make a little bit of effort, right? 

His first station is the kitchen - he does remember he should have a stack of some of Johnny's favorite coffee beans here _somewhere_ , if that is still his favorite brand. (It's not like Ten buys a bit of that every other year - he isn't so much of a coffee type, but old habits die hard. He still drinks a little bit of the brown drink to start his night, sometimes.) Rummaging in the drawers, he fishes out both the bag of coffee beans and a smaller fabric bag, just larga enough for a little handful. 

It feels weird, to do this, but … there is still a little satisfaction as he drops the bag into the sock. _One thing down_ , he thinks. Only some more to go. 

A small hum follows him as he continues to look in the kitchen, but apart from a few candies Kun must have left here during his last visit, there isn't much to see, so he leaves soon after. He will probably encounter more of Kun's hidden ratios, anyway (whyever he leaves them here, to be frank; whenever he asks Kun, he only dodges the question quite artfully). 

His second station is his room - _their_ old room. He isn't sure _what_ he is looking for, but the vampire is pretty positive that there must be _something_ of any value he can gift Johnny without feeling totally insensitive. He looks through his personal accessories collection, but considers all of them unfit for Johnny. (His eyes glance over the ring in one corner of this assembly; he usually wears it, but doesn't, today.) His eyes wander to every other possession he has, most of them belonging to the creative side of his, the results of his mind, but … well, he can't exactly fit a painting in a mere sock. 

He sighs. Perhaps, this isn't the place after all - just as he catches glimpse of a small corner of a polaroid photograph. Ten looks quizzically at it, hidden underneath a tremendous stack of books he hasn't touched in weeks. He comes closer slowly. Huh … this is strange. He can't remember to have placed any of them here, but … pulling it out only confirms his suspicion. 

In fact, there are two photographs. 

It's a rare photo of Johnny, smiling brightly into the camera, while the other shows himself, a bit more jaded already. He remembers the moment - it's from when Johnny brought over that specific polaroid camera, perhaps a couple of years before they parted for the first time. Ten remembers excitement, as it brims in a single photograph alone. (It sometimes hurts, to see that Johnny still treats him with the same kindness from before - not that he truly expects something else, yet …) 

He looks at the younger version of himself, and sighs. Putting away both photographs in a drawer of his desk, he shakes his head. This would be odd to gift, if it's the last time. Instead, he finds another little surprise bag of Kun's candies and pours them into the sock. 

Only so much to go, he's already half-way through thanks to Kun's indirect, generous help. 

There is a small hum in his steps as he continues to look for another place to search within the house. 

His third station is the basement. It doesn't hold many memories, to be quite honest - it's just the basement, a storage for many things gone lost over time. He sometimes goes down to hide from the rest of the world, but that's about it. 

Yet, Ten is sure that he'll find something here - call it intuition or just the knowledge that most of the once-fancied and now-useless things have room here. Which likewise means there are a _lot_ of small things to get. Truthfully, it doesn't even take long until he comes across a roll of undeveloped film, holding it between his fingers as he examines it. It's unlabelled, sans for the notion not to open it. This is … _strange_. Ten can't remember that Johnny has ever left something undeveloped for days, or even _centuries_ now, not after picking up photography as one of his favorite pastimes. He frowns at the small object. 

This is odd. 

He almost puts it back to where he found it - but something curls his fingers around the plastic, putting it inside the sock instead. He adds a few pretty marbles and dice that he finds in another corner, and calls it a day. 

Uneasiness fills him somewhere, or the dread of not knowing just _what_ he did. Maybe Johnny has the answers - for the worse, for the better. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


As soon as Ten enters the living room, he is met with a fully decorated Christmas tree, dimmed fairy lights enveloping the room in a pleasant glow that isn't too hard on their sensitive eyes. He's also met with a positively _glowing_ Johnny, though this time, it's not so much out of embarrassment than excitement. 

He almost immediately skips over to Ten, impatiently reaching out a hand to him. The shorter eyes it - _him_ \- with suspicion in his eyes, hesitantly placing his own hand into the other's much larger palm - only to be dragged closer to the tree. Confusion is evident on Ten's face, but he lets it happen. 

"Nice, you come just in time! I thought you might not have wanted to help with the tree, and you seemed like you needed more time for the filling thing, so I went ahead and-" Johnny rambles on, as soft sparkles are reflected in the red of his eyes, coloring them warmer than any sunset could be. He speaks with all the wonder of the world, and Ten can only imagine how excited he must have been while decorating the tree, probably while humming terrible Christmas songs, a smile stuck on his face - while knowing that _Ten_ is going to see his work. 

And, frankly, it looks much better than his sock disaster. 

Johnny frowns slightly, noticing Ten's silence. "You … you don't seem happy, though," he notes, experimentally varying the pressure of his grip of Ten's hand. 

"You're imagining things, Johnny," Ten only remarks, shaking his head as he holds onto the blue sock in his hands. A faint smile is playing with the corner of his lips. "It looks aesthetically pleasing," he comments on the tree instead, hoping it's enough to dismiss the sudden awkwardness. 

The other doesn't seem _as_ convinced, but he seems to remember something else - far too easily distracted by the visible flash of thought. He lets go of Ten as he scrambles for something else. "Oh, yes, before I forget it! Actually, the tree's incomplete, right now, so - if you'd do me the honour of placing the star on top?" Johnny says, a shimmer of the initial sparkle returning. 

With more honour and pride than arguably necessary (or, maybe, just the right amount), he presents a crimson red star, decorated with intrinsical ornamental patterns, lined in a golden daydream. 

Now, Ten _really_ looks deadpan. He looks at Johnny, at the star in his hand, and at the tree, perhaps one and a half feet taller than him - ergo, likely about _a lot_ larger than Ten. 

"Are you serious?" Ten asks, dryly. He still takes the star, intrigued by the art of it (it almost feels warm between his fingers). 

Seconds pass as Johnny follows Ten's glance, from the star to the top of the tree - _finally_ realising the 'mild' discrepancy of heights. Sparkles arise once anew on his skin, caught up in embarrassment. It renders him speechless as he fights for words - a solution, Ten is sure. "-Wait, let me help you, then," he finally manages to let out and Ten nods, ready to hand the star back to him again- 

-what he has not expected are arms tightly around his waist, lifting him up in one swift movement. 

"Johnny, what the hell?!" Ten lets out in exasperation, a watered-down sense of panic evident in his voice as he loses direct contact to the ground below - without any announcement whatsoever. He flails a bit with his arms, but knows better than to endanger both of their postures, and stills. 

It doesn't mean that he _likes_ it, though (or does he?). 

"You can reach the top, now, can't you?" Johnny lets out, as if it explains the world and everything. Ten is _sure_ he is grinning to himself now - feels the happy-go-lucky atmosphere around the other as he only groans in response, but obliges, anyway. What else can he do? It isn't like Johnny is planning to let him go before, right? 

"Okay, okay, I get it-" Ten mutters under his breath, the hand that holds the star reaching out to place it at the very peak of the tree. Once secured, Johnny _finally_ lets him down, feet touching the ground again and the shorter sighs in relief. 

What does _not_ change, though, is the fact of Johnny's arms around him, practically hugging him from behind. 

Seconds pass, and the awkwardness in Ten only grows as he clears his throat. 

"Uhm, Johnny, you can let go of me now," he points out, but he only feels how the other tightens his grip a bit - enough to be somewhat comfortable, but not strong enough to suffocate him. Ten could still most certainly escape if he wanted to. 

… 

Ten sighs anew. 

" _Johnny_ -" he begins. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" Johnny says, a dreamy tone in his voice, and it's then that Ten forces himself to look at what's right in front of him. The tree does give a serene glow, the various small pieces of decorations forming a picturesque and overall rather traditional image of a Christmas tree. Nothing unusual _per se_ \- but now that he is closer to it, he notices the small details of intrinsic artistery, small things that make him remember this or that, memories - and his own heart seems to be in awe. 

It's splendid, as if looking at a hectic, busy crowd - while chaotic or harmonious from afar, once you truly look at it, there are and would always be things that draw you in. 

Ten merely hums as reply. The words are stuck in his throat, and they only flee even further as Johnny begins to sway the both of them, softly, from left to right. 

It just feels - peaceful. Almost _too_ peaceful. 

(Panic arises. He _can't_ be doing that right now.) 

"Uhm- so, the socks-" Ten hastily voices, wrestling himself out of Johnny's grip who lets him. He shoves the blue sock, now filled and still in his hands, towards Johnny, presses it against the other who takes it in irritation. "Well, now, we exchanged the socks - _sort of_ \- so can we get … over with it?" he adds, eyes averted. 

It's obvious what he means. It doesn't make it much easier, though. 

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. "But … the gift exchanging doesn't happen until a few hours later," he states, matter-of-factly. 

Dawn nears, approaches them with its soft morning light. 

"Hah?" Ten says, most virtuously. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


Honestly, he doesn't know how he ended up with the other vampire - more like giant teddy bear - wrapped around him in serene slumber. Arms are loosely embracing him from behind, as if sheltering him from any harm as Ten - _involuntarily_ , he notes - presses against his body. Well, Johnny _is_ technically his lover, all things considered, so there is _some_ reason behind it, but he really doesn't know why Johnny has to spend the day at his (their) house. 

Or why he has to lie in the same bed as Ten. 

Especially the last part irritates him to no avail (they have far too many comfy couches and extra mattresses to make this a necessity _per se_ ), and the confusion is just as strong as with so many things that happened in the past few hours. If he had any heartbeat left, he was sure it would have beaten in irregularities, if only because of the sheer _unknowingness_ of the situation. How is he supposed to act? Should he just _sleep_ peacefully like the other did? 

… Well, probably. He closes his eyes, listens to the - familiar - steady breathing, _so_ close to him. Closer than it has been in long. 

With a myriad of thoughts storming his mind, he, too, falls asleep eventually. 

It's a dreamless sleep, as most of the world is in its noisy awakening, before dusk falls early upon it once again, inviting the evening and the night to stay for a while. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


Ten wakes up to the sound of soft breaths next to him, as he feels how Johnny's grip has loosened over the hours of sleep. Far too easily, he could get up and be out of it, leave things as they are. 

Instead, he remains still, in the quietness of dusk's arrival, counting the exhales of the other. In his mind, he thinks of happy families as they must be seated around a fully decked table, of friends and lovers sharing a moment of tenderness and closeness with each other - and if not, most of the world is likely going to spend their time with someone or something they cherish. Someone or something they can appreciate, enjoy - be it a person, a crowd or just a silent activity for themself. 

Ten turns quietly in his posture, staring right at Johnny's face. 

_A … beloved one … huh?_ He isn't so sure anymore if he still has that. 

He pokes the taller's nose. "Hey, wake up," he whispers, pinching one of his cheeks. 

Johnny's eyelids flutter open, and where he has only been vaguely smiling before, his face now turns into a full-blown smirk. Carefully, as if not to scare him away, he moves his head just a little bit closer, lips gracing the exposed forehead of Ten. _A habit_ , he thinks. 

"Good evening," he breathes out in a husky voice, dripping from sleep. He leans a bit up, his hand is holding his head as he looks at Ten with something he doesn't dare to describe - nor address. 

He averts his eyes. "So, we exchange presents and blood and we're done, right?" Ten only remarks, forcing his body to leave the familiar proximity at once - the night is just about to start, and the sooner this is over, the sooner everything will end. 

(Just why can't Johnny make it easier for him?) 

"Uhm …" the taller lets out, eyes following Ten as he stands up. "Actually …" 

The shorter whips his head around in quiet disbelief, eyes glowing dangerously, crimson in the faint evening light - caught in the last few rays of actual sunlight before all fades to the stars and the moon alone. 

"Johnny … don't tell me there is _more_? How many of those traditions exist, even?" he scoffs, crossing his arms, amusement lost on him. 

The accused one scratches the back of his head, suppressing a yawn. He _looks_ sort of guilty, but not guilty enough to let it go. "Uhm … more than just that, actually, but I chose only a few. Please? Just this once," he has the audacity to plead. 

_Just this once_ , it echoes in Ten's head. He sighs. "Okay." 

They came thus far, anyway. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


"Ten … did you really measure the exact amount?" Johnny looks quizzical at the content of the bowl he holds, a suspicious amount of butter. "And … did you wash your hands?" 

The shorter stills and gives him a deadpan look, then looks pointedly at one of his hands, surrounded by the to-be-dough, a sticky mass of flour, sugar and some milk or something. 

"Johnny, this question comes a little late," he comments dryly and proceeds with the kneading. "Besides, it was _your_ idea, I'm only showing minimum cooperation," he adds, nose scrunched up in concentration. 

Johnny sighs in surrender, looking at the pile of _something_ measured (or not). He smiles, regardless. "Yeah, yeah, forgive my humble self for questioning your unfailable eye-measuring skills," he lets out in dramatic amusement, earning a huff from Ten. 

"Yeah, _you_ could have done it yourself, so shut up and start working," he retorts pointedly. Honestly, _he_ was the one who suggested baking some cookies ("It's only traditional!" he said), though according to Ten, Johnny's much more interested in leaving the actual work to Ten. 

But after that, the taller _actually_ starts to work on the dough as well, as they make two different batches of cookies - for the big celebration later on. (Which might turn into a first in long - a first that both of them attend at the same time, without leaving as soon as the other arrives, late. Ten avoids discussing the possibility.) 

And … maybe, just _maybe_ , it's _fun_ \- to prevent each other from eating raw dough, pick the various shapes and forms and trying _not_ to break the more fragile results while transferring them onto the baking plate. At some point, Johnny has started to play some awful christmas tunes until Ten's cry for mercy has been heard and he switches to some of his year-round favorites instead. 

There is quiet wonder whenever Ten recognises a song, but he doesn't share. 

After some twenty minutes, the first batch is finally in the oven, leaving a quiet tranquility full of waiting. Soon enough, the kitchen - the house would be filled with a merry fragrance, a sweet one that rises the anticipation only more. And because of lack of anything better to do (Johnny _insists_ they have to wait for midnight before exchanging those stupid socks), they remain in the kitchen, staring at the oven. 

Ten isn't _sure_ if the silence is comfortable or not, but there is some familiarity in the way they merely exist in each other's spaces. 

_It's all about familiarity._ (Ten comes to hate it. Or does he?) 

"You dyed your hair," he decides to share the one thing _that_ changed. He nods into the direction of Johnny, eyes laying on the blonde - it's longer, too. "It looks good." 

The taller smirks, indicating a bow in gratitude. "Thank you," he remarks with a smile. "I felt like a change, I guess?" 

Ten only nods at that, unsure what to _say_ or to do after that - there _are_ words he could share, but something holds him back. 

( _What kind of change?_ , he wants to ask. _Am I part of it?_ ) 

Instead, silence embraces them anew, and the darkness thickens around them. The stars are dangling on the firmament, but partially, none are to be seen as clouds hide them away from prying eyes. 

"You know, in Western culture, Christmas is more of a family celebration, and New Year's a thing for friends," Johnny remarks, joining the low background music that carried over from their baking session. "I think in East Asian culture, Christmas - if anything - is more something you celebrate with your friends or lover, lovers, though." 

Ten listens quietly, eyes plainly directed at the whirring oven and the baking cookies, slowly turning more solid. "Oh?" he lets out. "What does it mean to you?" 

He looks at Johnny from the corner of his eyes, in light anticipation. He knows the other has more or less lived both sides at some point or another, if his postcards from Chicago, Seoul and various other locations are anything to go by. 

But instead of replying, the taller only smiles from where he stands. It's indecipherable, even as Ten turns his head completely to look at him more clearly, face to face. 

"Who knows?" Johnny just hums, and silence falls. 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


After some tremendous cookie-decorating ("Ten, I don't think-" - "Shut up, I can fit as many pink pearls on my cookie _as I want_."), _finally_ , midnight strikes in its dark glory. They are eventually at the very last 'station' of their little Christmas journey. 

( _The last one._ At the very last.) 

They are back to being seated in the living room, sitting on the ground, with the Christmas tree from hours ago beside them while the candles from even before are long-gone. Nevertheless, both vampires are coated in this peculiar darkly orange glow by the lights that are artificially created. None of them say anything. The socks are laying in front of them, respectively - the blue one in front of Ten, the black one in front of Johnny. Ten looks at the ground, Johnny looks at Ten. 

Silence carries on. 

"... Is this supposed to be like this?" Ten finally interrupts the silence, a soft whisper, almost, a voice below half of its usual volume. He turns his head to face Johnny, properly, whose face is wearing a dazzlingly warm smile. 

_Why?_ , he wonders. 

There is nothing to be particularly happy about. This is the _last_ time they _need_ to get together- 

But of course, he doesn't know. 

"Hum," Johnny finally replies, basking in the silence a little bit more, "not exactly, but I don't think there are many manuals for proper gift-giving. … Or maybe there are, but I wouldn't trust them too much." He inhales deeply (it reminds Ten a little bit of something else; of all the times they exchanged gifts before, perhaps). 

"Merry Christmas, Ten," he exhales softly as he hands over the black sock - back to its original creator. 

"Merry Christmas, Johnny," Ten echoes with a curt nod, giving Johnny his blue sock as well - and receiving his own. Naturally, it feels a lot heavier than before, and he wonders just _what_ Johnny has prepared. 

(Why does it even matter, whether he'll like it or not?) 

He squints at the sock. "Uhm … is this a 'both at once' or 'one after another' thing?" Ten asks quizzically, looking a little lost as he already tries to feel what there is (a lot of candies; most likely). 

"However you prefer it," Johnny replies, leaving the choice to Ten. Even as he _tries_ to hide the anticipation and suspense in his eyes, Ten still notices it - it draws a little smile onto his features. Was it that interesting to see? 

He hums a little bit, sock thoughtful between his fingers. "Then … let's look through it together," he suggests, relief immediately painting Johnny's face - he's already lurking into the opening, curious to see what he'll discover. 

_How impatient_ , Ten only thinks, but truth be told, he isn't so much different. 

Within no time, two small piles of candies and something more can be found on the living room's carpet, both of them choosing the 'just drop all of it and sort later' method. "If you don't like the candies, blame Kun - he's the one leaving them here," Ten nonchalantly reveals as he observes how Johnny examines every single little treat, one by one. 

But as much as he observes, soon enough, he is too busy looking through his own pile. Most of them are chocolates, though there are also some pastries - he sees a bag of self-made sugary treats, labelled _from: Chenle_ (and, with an asterisk, _if they taste bad, Jisung made them_ ) that makes him chuckle. He fishes out a few more earrings and earstuds, of various styles, and singular small crayons of colors with funny names. It's a collection of all the little things he likes - or has liked, still likes. It leaves him in awe, to be _remembered_ in those little ways, despite … everything. 

"All of them tried to chime something in as soon as Jaehyun spilled the plan of me celebrating Christmas with you," Johnny helpfully supplies, as if reading his mind - or just his expression that speaks of disbelief; it can't be only _Johnny_ picking all of that. 

Ten looks up, a questioning gaze on his face. "Why would they do that?" he furrows his eyebrows. 

"... Do I really have to say it out loud?" Johnny lets out, incredulously. 

The shorter merely shrugs, starting to sort his chocolates by brand - but his eyes don't leave Johnny alone, not quite so, a quiet confirmation to go on. 

The taller sighs, fondly. "Because they miss you - _I_ miss you, too," the taller states, matter-of-factly, and it makes Ten avert his eyes immediately. 

He has no answer to those words, he has nothing - in fact - to offer, so he remains quiet. He only hears - _feels_ another small sigh that escapes Johnny, and the quiet noise as he continues to look through the pile. 

"You remembered my favorite coffee brand," he hears the taller exclaiming after a while, soft joy coloring his voice. And just maybe, _maybe_ , Ten looks up again, into those warm red eyes. "Thank you." 

"It's nothing special," Ten murmurs, and he means it - but Johnny still rustles the little bag of coffee beans as if he won the lottery. 

And then, he sees _it_. The film roll. 

Surprise fills his eyes as he puts down the bag in exchange for the plastic container. "Oh," he lets out, and Ten starts to wonder if it has been a mistake - to include _that_ in this pile of ordinary nothingness. 

He gulps, but forces himself to look up - into those eyes, once again. 

Johnny looks less shocked than … just surprised. And … "Bloody hell, can you stop sparkling?!" Ten groans in disbelief. "It's just an old roll you forgot to develop, and I thought you wanted it back in case there's something, I don't know, important on it-" 

"It's you," Johnny states rapidly, trying to calm down the embarrassment that is setting his skin alight. Literally. "It's … there are pictures of … you." 

And before Ten can process just how little time Johnny needed to decipher the mystery he couldn't solve, a "what" escapes him. His mouth falls open, and remains so. 

"I - I started to take pictures of you, like, _kind of_ in secret? As soon as they released the special camera. I wanted to show you that … but then …" Johnny tries to explain, the dim glow only increasing as the lights next to him reflect on his skin. 

Ten remains frozen. "Show me _what_ , Johnny," he asks, but it sounds far too mechanical. 

The taller stills his breathing, his gaze wanders as they look for an excuse to flee - as he turns to Ten at last. He inhales, deeply. 

"I wanted to show you how beautiful you are when … when you're being _you_ ," Johnny says, looking right into Ten's eyes - with an overwhelming sincerity that Ten feels the urge to avert his eyes once more, but he cannot move under the gaze. 

Somewhere, something breaks, and he doesn't know what to do. 

"Stop," Ten finally lets out after moments of unwavering gazes. "Just … stop, please, Johnny - what … what do you _want_? Why now? _Why?_ " His voice is shaking, his fingers curled to trembling fists, firmly placed on his thighs. 

Before he can register, arms are embracing him - first loose enough to shake them away, but the grip is tightening as the first drop falls. As fingers clutch on bits of wool, of the other's awful sweater, as Ten wraps his arms around Johnny, too, and as he breaks, then and there. He cries, and it's the first time in long that someone has witnessed his tears. 

"I'm sorry," Johnny repeatedly says, whispers into Ten's hair. "I'm so sorry for leaving you." 

  
  


\----- 

  
  


_Johnny has never stopped loving Ten._

_It might have wavered as emotions are a finicky, fleeting thing, yet the stream always flows back to those crimson red eyes that express so much more than they let on. And Ten knows it, too - knows it because there is the same, quiet adoration seeping out of his eyes whenever he comes over, the few times in the span of centuries. Here is a thing about Johnny's love - it's soft, considerate and peaceful in the strangest way. Because Ten seems to be troubled, he agrees to be the one to leave - to be apart, although he knows where his own happiness lies. Not exclusively, as there are plenty things to enjoy - to work for whatsoever, yet a shard of his happiness always remains within this house they built together._

_In the memories they share._

_After centuries, at last, he begins to wonder - and returns, to the little place he calls a home of his. He still doesn't know whether it has been a good decision, but something has been nagging him, and he's determined to find out more._

_Ten has never loved Johnny._

_Well, that is, if you take it the apparently universal way of love. Johnny is Ten's first friend outside the confinement of his hometown - the place he was born. Johnny is Ten's first friend after becoming a vampire, too, and he is his precious best friend on top of it. He cherishes Johnny in endless ways, and adores the other for his warm personality that is just the right amount of eccentric - charming all the way. There are all those little things that he treasures about the taller, the little details that make him feel safe - and he trusts him, in the truest meaning of it. But, his love is not 'love', and the more he compares his love to the affection Johnny showers him with, the more he wonders if he's doing good enough of a job._

_If he's good enough at copying Johnny's love - at faking it._

_After centuries of being together, Ten knows that Johnny is most true to himself when he can love - be loved, and after centuries of being together, he doesn't know if he can do it anymore. He is afraid, to be found out in this exhausting game of a world where everything seems to resolve around the same thing - the same feeling, and he is afraid._

_He begins to draw the last line, and Johnny is kind enough to finish it._

  
  


\----- 

  
  


It must have been an hour, or a little more - a little less, in which Johnny cradles Ten, calming down the smaller, or at least trying to. He notices how tears fall from his own two eyes. 

There have been words unspoken, lies told, and somewhere in-between, everything has come to an halt - until now, until everything breaks and leaves them at their most vulnerable. 

"I lied to you," Ten finally says, breaking the cautious silence that has been lingering. "I … I never lost my emotions. I … I never _loved_ you." 

Johnny doesn't reply immediately - instead, he continues to rub soothing circles on Ten's back, encouraging him to continue. He knows this isn't the final line he draws - and at long last, he wants to hear the rest of it. From Ten's perspective. 

Ten inhales, deeply. "You know how we met, back then? You were my first friend when I arrived there, and you were my first friend after we … well, after we turned. You were the one who stuck with me, and look at us now!" Ten lets out a shallow laugh, rubbing his forehead at the other's clothes as he tries to calm down. He breathes in the familiar smell, far too common to escape his notice. Johnny's presence, his little, non-verbal reassurances do help, and Ten wonders how he has been able to live on without those small things. 

He breathes in, again. "I don't know if I ever expressed enough just how _much_ that means to me - _you_ mean to me. Perhaps, I didn't, and I'm sorry. You deserve to be told how wonderful you are, every night after you wake up and each time before the sunrise, and-" Ten rambles on. He looks up to the taller's amused face. And just maybe, Ten sparkles a little bit more in the dimmed lights - he wants to avert his eyes, but it doesn't really work out. 

"-I drift away. … But, I trust you, and I still do. I love to spend time with you and you calm me down - you _are_ infuriating, mind you, but … I don't mind it as much. … Like. What I mean to say - perhaps, that's why - all of _this_ \- I thought I was in love. _You_ were in love, you told me, and I … it felt like the same? I - I thought, maybe, it _could_ have been the same? So I rushed to answer with a simple _yes_ because I couldn't bear to lose you, but … after becoming a couple, I kept wondering. If you really love me - no, moreso, if _I_ really love _you_. Love … love is … everywhere, and everyone seems to know how to do it, and I'm afraid of using it wrong. Of _loving wrong_. Which … isn't that ridiculous?" he expresses with a laugh, but it resonates bitterly. 

Johnny wraps his arms a bit tighter around the smaller, hugging him closer to himself. "It's not ridiculous - it's very thoughtful of you, and I appreciate that you were thinking about it, in all earnesty," he exclaims softly, a warm smile here as Ten searches for it. 

_It's just right here, has been, all the time._

The shorter only nods - he's not exactly, not _completely_ convinced, but … he does feel better. Well enough to continue to add words, sew a fabric out of them. "Yeah … and so, we continued. It was fine at first, I loved to spend my days with you - like before, or a little different. But, the longer we were together - as a _couple_ , I mean - the more I ended up _wondering_ if I'm doing it right? If I … if I - unironically - loved you _right_ because you deserve it, but was I giving you that? The longer we were a couple, the more couples we got to know and stuff, the more … the more differences I spotted between them and me, the more I felt like an imposter. As if any time now, anyone could point at me and call me out for being a copycat - for not being worthy of your love, for doing it wrong, for - just … being _broken_ ," Ten continues, his breath accelerating with each new word that tumbles from his lips. 

Hopeless. Helpless. _Fearful._

Johnny lays a hand on Ten's head, kindly stroking his hair and effectively shutting Ten up. He hums a soothing melody. "You were scared, weren't you?" he says in lieu of the hiccuping vampire in his arms, and he feels the nod rather than seeing it. "But you were very brave, too, and I am proud of you. Thank you for trusting me with your feelings - and before you start, no, this isn't 'too late' or something. It is just right because you are telling me this in this very moment, and that is enough, okay?" he says with a gentle voice, continuously keeping up with those little movements until he feels how Ten eases under his touch. 

"You are neither broken nor do you have to be deserving of my love, you know? I want to give it to you, anyway, whether you want or not," the taller adds, blowing little kisses on Ten's head. Ten doesn't react, but that doesn't matter - as long as he heard those words, words he needed to get out. 

The sounds seem foreign to Ten, after all this time - but they resonate somewhere, hidden away under layers and layers of what had never dared to reach the light. Now, it is peeking out, carefully - words laid bare, his everything on display. 

"You don't have to tell me everything today, either," Johnny points out. He feels how Ten eventually shakes his head, as he lifts his head to look him into the eye. 

A hesitant smile is gracing his features - an unfinished sketch of a smile, but it's a start, it's _something_. 

"I want to try and tell you … everything. You deserve to know," Ten states. Johnny nods, giving him a little kiss on the forehead. The shorter leans into his touch, a little bit. 

"Continue, then. I'll listen," he reassures him, smiling warmly. 

Ten inhales once anew, deeply. 

"So, there was fear, and … I guess fear does drive people to do the strangest things. We continued to be as usual, just us, and the rest didn't _matter_ \- but, I started to fear that you would find out, too. That you would find out that I don't … don't _love_ you, in that sense. I was afraid you'd leave me behind, and I was scared of breaking you," he continues, stringing words together as they come. Johnny's grip festers as he speaks of the thoughts he's been harbouring for months, years, decades now. "I was afraid what you'd … _you_ would think of me when I told you - if you would blame yourself, or me, or no one. I think I was a little bit afraid of your kindness, too - in that sense. That you would go easy on me because I _know_ you - and I don't think it's what I deserve." 

"I'm … I'm sorry I made you think you couldn't tell me, either," Johnny lets out softly, a careful whisper into Ten's hair, speaking of genuine worry. It tickles a bit. 

Ten shakes his head. "You're not to blame - it was … my own thinking, I guess," he mutters, laying his head onto the other's chest. "So, I started to come up with this … gigantic lie," he continues, a bit muffled. "You know how we heard of turned vampires losing a part of themselves, and emotions being one of the more common phenomena. It was a lie, naturally - you _can't_ lose what you don't have to begin with - but … still true, maybe. Losing you in the process hurt." 

"I'm sorry for leaving you alone with all of this," the taller says, hurt evident in his voice - in the way he curls himself around Ten just a little tighter who only shakes his head, gasping lightly. 

"Stop apologizing!" Ten groans, exasperated. " _I_ am sorry for making you do the choice. You know as well as me that you left because you knew I couldn't do it, but we both knew at that point, it had to happen. Generally, you're far too kind for a brat like me," he chuckles in reply, though he only earns an indignant huff. 

"I stop apologizing when you stop insulting the love of my eternity here," Johnny lets out dramatically - and immediately freezes. "I - sorry, it just-" 

"Am I?" Ten interrupts yet another apology, head moving just a tiny bit upwards, so he can look the other in the eye from where he lays. "Am I the love of your ' _eternity_ '?" 

And there it is again, the sparkle on Johnny's skin - it would have felt hotter, if there was a beating heart, but that is none of their concern. The taller looks back into those red eyes - the familiar hue of mischief, the one peculiar mixture of colors that create this singular presence. Deeply red, a crimson hue. He looks into those unwavering eyes, full of confidence - and sees a streak of insecurity, of something else than just grandeur and determination, just one of many hidden underneath it all. 

He's already hugging Ten, but somehow still manages to hug him anew. 

"Yes," he whispers, for Ten and Ten only to hear. "Yes," he repeats a bit louder. "You are the one I love, for eternity." 

Johnny averts his eyes a bit after, clearing his throat. "Actually, I came with the intention to win you back, no matter what - I think it's unfair how everyone sees you more often than I do, I was there first!" he whines playfully, mocking hurt as the other scoffs with delight. 

"Maybe you were just not fancying my interest," Ten exclaims cheekily, every word a lie. 

The taller gasps. "The audacity of you! You-" he exhales dramatically, earning a laughter of Ten. Johnny wiggles his eyebrows, daringly. "Just admit it, you find me charming, don't you?" he proclaims boldly. 

"Sure, sure, you totally swept me off my feet here," Ten hums in reply, "you absolutely adorkable undead being with no beating heart." 

"-Why does it sound like an insult?" Johnny complains wearily. 

The other chuckles, amused. "Who knows?" 

They look at each other, red eyes to red eyes, and bask in the moment - solely for them. A moment seems to pass, while it lasts - just before they burst into a laughter, a hideously freefall of sound that fills the entire room with something carefree that neither of them have heard in long. 

Maybe, it reminds Ten of soft chiming bells, announcing the arrival of someone dear - and he only feels satisfaction about the fact that they are close to each other _now_ , regardless of what it took to reach this point. 

Perhaps, it is just fine like this. 

"So …" Johnny speaks up as their laughter dies down, playing with the hem of Ten's shirt. "What do you think? Of us now, I mean," he asks, nervousness seeping through the delicate tone. 

And Ten stares into those genuine, sincere eyes - the red reflecting just a little bit of his own silhouette in the dim light. A warm hue, as he thinks of cozy fires - destructive, maybe, but _oh-so warm_. It speaks of fond memories, of a familiarity he thought he has lost when it has been _here_ all along. 

"You know," Ten eventually starts. "This was supposed to be our last meeting - I wanted to break the bond between us afterwards." He feels how Johnny tenses once again, and he is reaching out to cup the other's face with both hands. "But, lucky you I changed my mind. I'm sorry for worrying you, all over again," he says firmly, looking directly into the taller's eyes. He leaves little kisses on Johnny's cheeks. 

"Please come back home." 

Perhaps, tears are pooling on either of their eyes, but it's not like any of them care. 

"Yes," Johnny says, breathless, joyous - filled with an abundance of emotions that it's hard to pinpoint all, and he kisses Ten's forehead again - and again. "I'm coming home." 

Smiles are gracing their faces, little giggles as a weight is lifted off their hearts. It's warm, and familiar, and _everything_ they could wish for. But Ten knows there is _something_ on the other's mind, still, by the way he hums absent-mindedly. "Do you have anything else you want to ask?" he nudges him, encouragingly. "I'll be honest." 

Johnny's eyes wander, a little bit, a little journey on their own before they return to look at Ten. He inhales, calmly. "What … what happened to the ring?" he asks, fingers intertwining slightly with Ten's hands, in search for a cold metal piece that isn't here. "Everyone said you're still wearing it, but … I never saw it." 

Ten lets out a little huff. "I … don't wear it when you come. I thought it'd make you uncomfortable," he admits, catching the relieved small laugh that escapes Johnny. "You're not wearing it, either!" 

"Yeah, because I thought I'd make _you_ uncomfortable," the taller chuckles, kissing Ten's nose. "So, you're usually wearing it?" 

Perhaps, Ten's face is sparkling just the tiniest bit, though he beams with pride and a snicker. "It fits my aesthetic," he comments nonchalantly. 

"I'm glad to hear," Johnny retorts with a hum. His cheek is rubbing lightly against the other's cheek. Their touch lingers, just before Ten brings a bit more distance between them, for the sake of speaking properly. 

"Any other question?" he asks, looking earnestly into those warm, red eyes. 

Johnny hums, holding Ten close. "We talked about what happened, but … I'm wondering … What … what am I to you? Tell me, with your own words," he asks. 

Silence befalls them for a moment, a thoughtful pause in-between words. Then, Ten cups his face again, forcing them to make eye contact - but it isn't like any one of them can look anyplace else now. 

"You are my best friend - in some way, you are my first friend. My partner-in-crime - the one person I'd go to when something troubles me or I want to do something. I am not sure if you are my lover, but … you are my closest confidant, my partner for eternity and … I want you to be happy. I love to see you smile, and it makes me laugh when you laugh - for whatever silly reason. You are someone I trust, with my entire being. I feel safe with you - I … I feel at _home_ ," Ten finally says, detaching himself a bit from Johnny, so he can look him into the eye, more closely - more clearly. Face to face, at last. 

He smiles softly - a speckle of light in form of a smile. 

"And if I may say, I care for you," he says, the smile only growing wider as he leans forward, foreheads pressing together. "A lot." 

Johnny, too, tilts his head to meet Ten's, unable to stop the smile from festering on his face, and leans into the touch. They close their eyes, basking in the moment alone - knowing when they will open their eyes again, they are still here. 

_They_ are here. 

"And if I may say," he whispers. "I love you. A lot." 

**Author's Note:**

> ... and that's it! uwu <3 I really wanted to write it the way it is rn, so I hope you might enjoyed it in some way - as much pain and joy I had to figure out how all of it relates to each other. It's actually somewhat a watered-down version of another story I wanted to write, in some way ........ basically I just really want to write about aros in!! relationships!! ;u; <3  
> (I know I fail terribly at Stating Facts, but I headcanon Ten, in _this_ universe, identifies as aromantic!)  
> I might write some more JohnTen for this universe if Time @__@ but I already got some more ideas for different casts hehehe
> 
> Do let me know what you think if you want!! I really appreciate your time and attention, and thank you so much for reading through this self-indulgent something sjdjabdhbshdb Happy holidays, and in advance, a happy new year!! Stay safe, stay healthy, do the things you enjoy, and I hope you can be happy!! ö^ö <3


End file.
